


Me and My Friends are Lonely

by supergeekytoon



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ethan Hunt just needs a hug, M/M, Post-Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation (2015), mentions of past ethan/julia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27638581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supergeekytoon/pseuds/supergeekytoon
Summary: Ethan returns home, unable to adjust to life on the right side of the law. As his thoughts begin to fixate on Benji, he goes to visit Julia, in search of answers.
Relationships: Benji Dunn/Ethan Hunt, Ethan Hunt & Luther Stickell
Comments: 23
Kudos: 31





	1. Solid Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by:  
> Me and My Friends Are Loney by Matt Maeson  
> Autumn Leaves by Frank Sinatra 
> 
> Finally got over covid which left me out of it for a few weeks. I wrote this in between updating my other fic. I've just been having a lot of thoughts about Ethan's trauma, and I need to yell about it. Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always appreciated!  
> Follow me on Tumblr @supergeekytoon

There’s a quaint cemetery hidden away within the suburbs of Virginia. Despite the chill in the air many people go to remember their loved ones, quietly grieving their loss. Ethan walks along the rows of headstones, flowers in hand, as the leaves fall and the sun hides behind the clouds. It is a perfectly average autumn afternoon as he goes to visit Julia’s grave. 

He takes in the sound or the leaves crunching beneath his boots that have been caked with mud and dried blood. He stops at her headstone. He’s surprised he does not cry this time. He’s unsure if that’s alright. He privately worries it means he loves her less. What does it mean to mourn a living woman? It's been years now and he still doesn’t have an answer. Ethan’s memory of her haunts him like a ghost. 

She loved autumn; he recalls. She would go on about how beautiful the trees were as the sunlight hit their ever-changing color. She always saw the beauty in small things. She looked for the good in everything. It’s probably why she had fallen for him. He was a world-weary man when he had met her, tired from everything he’d seen up to that point. He’s even more tired now, and he knows now that no one will be able to give him relief 

He’s in search of something, his body aching for calm, but he is unsure if he will find it here amongst the dead. Everything is still when the dead are concerned, however, so it’s a good place to start. He speaks to the headstone, his words quiet and controlled. 

“Even when you were here with me, I could never sleep. Life is funny that way.” He smiles although his words are filled with nothing but regret. 

“There’s so much I wish I could tell you, if only you were here.” 

Ever since he came home after half a year in the field, he’s felt untethered to the world trying to cling to the memories of the past to ground himself. As if he is trying to remember why he’s doing any of this. 

The memories of that time flash in his head. He can’t help but fixate on the lonely nights he endured, afraid he’d been followed, afraid he’d be killed before his mission was complete. He keeps seeing Benji, unconscious in a dark van, helpless. His stomach churns as he pushes the memories aside. It’s the same feeling he got when Julia had been taken. It hurts to think about. 

He shakes his head as if to rid himself of the memories. He’s back on solid ground, for now, at least. It shouldn’t hurt anymore. Ethan squeezes his hand into a fist, as though trying to search for a hand to hold onto. He does not find it. 

Since she went away, Ethan made it a point to visit her grave that held an empty casket six feet under the ground. It’s penance in a way, as he reminds himself of the price of love. 

“I’ve got a new apartment, it’s small but I don’t mind too much. You’d love it though, there’s a view of all the trees in the neighborhood.” 

There’s a window in the living room, that lets all the sunlight in, he loves it, and he wishes she were here to appreciate it. His apartment was the only one available on such short notice. But it was much preferable to sleeping in a safe house or the bunks at Langley, where he had intended to stay. But Luther was having none of it. 

“Luther offered for me to stay with him for a bit until I could move in.’ He bends his knees, grabbing the headstone, feeling the words etched into the rock, tracing each letter with his finger almost absentmindedly. ‘He misses you too.”

Ethan didn’t want to inconvenience him, but he had been far too tired to argue. It was a nice gesture, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel safe with him. He wanted to talk to Luther about what happened while he was away: all of the failures in catching Lane, his almost torture session, what happened in Vienna, Benji... 

But he doesn’t, in the end. Ethan wasn’t even sure how to broach the subject, to be honest. He found himself with words caught in his throat, images flashing through his mind as he tried to talk about it. He knows he can’t avoid it forever, but the way his stomach churns and his thoughts race when he tries to open up are enough to shut him down. 

He shudders at the thought of what happened to Benji while in the hands of Solomon Lane. He wants to ask, but he doesn’t want to pry. He wants to hold him. He wanted to be able to protect him. It seems that hurting his loved ones is all Ethan knows to do. 

“I’m so sorry, Julia” He whispers, laying the flowers on her grave. Although he is unsure what he is apologizing for. Was it what he’d done to her life and falling in love with her? Or was it the audacity of falling in love with someone else? 

Sorry wouldn’t bring her back either way. He takes comfort in the fact that she is alive somewhere else. Living a new life, safe and sound. 

He makes his way back home as the sky’s hues turn into a rich navy blue, and the clouds give way to the cold moonlight. Each passing day gets shorter and shorter. And the nights last an eternity in comparison. He opens the door and turns on the light, only to find Luther sitting on his couch, amongst the boxes he hasn’t found the time to unpack. 

“What are you doing here? Is something wrong?” Ethan tenses up, readying himself for whatever news Luther has. 

“Does something need to be wrong for me to visit my friend?” Luther responds quietly, looking around the room. Ethan is still standing in the doorway, unsure of himself 

“So nothing’s wrong?” 

“Well, I didn’t say that either.” Luther flashes a small smile before getting serious again. 

“Just come in Ethan, you’re letting in some of the cold.” 

“You sound like my father.” He replies. 

Ethan is confused, and still anxious as he sits beside Luther. He takes notice of the light shining from the ceiling, giving off a bright yellowish tint to the room. It’s a cheaper bulb, the kind that his parents would use back at the farm. His nostalgia almost succeeds in convincing him to let it stay, but no. He thinks about replacing it when he has the time. 

“Why are you here?” 

“I know you, Ethan. And I know that’s something’s bothering you. I know you don’t talk about it, but please, let me listen.” 

Ethan sighs as he looks out the window, the branches now bare, bending in the wind. “All the leaves are gone,” he says.

“What?” Luther asks with a perplexed look. 

“Because of the storms we’ve had, the leaves have all fallen off.” He mumbles out the words, knowing how ridiculous it seems to be distressed about the leaves falling. He continues to explain himself. 

“Now when I look out the window all I see are the branches.” 

Luther nods his head, seeming to follow along with Ethan’s train of thought. “You missed being able to see the leaves fall while you were away.” 

There’s silence in the apartment. It wasn’t a profound statement really, but it struck him, hard. He’d been running for so long and not just in these last six months. 

All his adult life, he’d been running to stay alive. Running towards those he cares about only to see them vanish, their blood slipping through his hands as though it flowed like water. Luther had been by his side through all of it, and yet, he struggled to talk about any of it. 

He sees Benji’s eyes, pleading silently, so certain that he would die at the hands of an anarchist. Benji used to be so young and happy, and now Ethan’s guilt rises to the surface. Benji followed him into the field. He hates to think he led him further down this path. And he hates that he enjoyed his company so much he didn’t stop him. He was selfish and it nearly cost Benji his life. 

“Benji almost died, Luther. I let him get captured.” Ethan stares at the ceiling, a warmth rising in his neck and face. "I couldn’t protect him.” 

The shame of the admission breaks him inside, and a few tears begin to stream down his face. He knows why he can’t stop fixating on that, and it hurts. 

“I should have been able to, and I should have been able to save Julia, and Sarah and Hannah and Jack, but I couldn’t and it’s all my fault and-” He stops, unable to articulate himself further. The pain in his chest is overwhelming and he’s afraid he’ll end up vomiting on the floor from the stress. All he can think is ‘I failed them all’,

He stops to take a breath, as Luther places his hand on his back, running it up and down. It’s a comforting touch that grounds him back to reality. 

“What’s the point of me if I can’t save everyone?” he says when he calms down enough to speak again. 

Luther looks at him with a pained expression, looking for the words that would help. “Your worth isn’t determined by how many you can save. Benji made it out alive, Ethan. Julia’s still out there, alive.” 

Luther pauses for a moment before he continues, “And as for the rest, it was out of your hands. You were the target of a man who thought human life was disposable.” 

“I just don’t want to lose him too, Luther. I don’t think I could take anymore of this .” 

“I know, you want to protect him, but he took this job, same as you. He knows the risks he’s taking. His wellbeing was leveraged against you, and you shouldn’t blame yourself.” 

Ethan knows this to be true, but he can’t bring himself to believe it. It didn’t feel right to him. He’s fallen for Benji, and it’s a death sentence. He remains quiet, unsure of what to do. 

“But I love him.” The words spill from his mouth. Acknowledging the truth out loud makes him feel vulnerable, and he hates it. He hates not being able to control his emotions, he hates that Benji got hurt, he hates being useless. 

“I know.” Luther says.

He sobs, all the anxiety and pain that he endured finally come spilling out. He can taste the salt of his tears, as he cries into Luther’s jacket. Luther embraces him, not letting go until Ethan finishes sobbing. He pulls himself together, feeling somewhat better after his tears begin to dry. He knows he has to talk to Benji. But he decides to wait until tomorrow. His body is sore, and he is tired.

“For what it’s worth, Ethan,’ Luther says, as he prepares to leave, “I think Julia would want you to move on. Despite what you believe about yourself, you deserve to be happy.” 

“Do you believe that?” Ethan responds, despondent. 

“I’m your friend. I’ll always want you to be happy.” 

Luther shuts the door, leaving Ethan with his thoughts. 


	2. Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So happy at all the positive responses from the last chapter, hopefully, this one delivers <3\.   
> Follow Me on Tumblr @supergeekytoon

Benji sits alone in his bed as mid-morning rays shine through the blinds. He wakes up gasping for breath. Despite sleeping past 10 am, he still feels exhausted. He grips his duvet, warmed under the sunlight, trying to ground himself to his surroundings. “I’m back home, I’m home,” he mutters, and although he recognizes this, his heart is still racing. 

His muscles ache, from sleeping in for so long. He decides to take a hot shower to relieve some of the pain and to wash off his foul mood. The bathroom tiles are cold beneath his feet, it’s not something that bothers him. He appreciates that the changing of the weather brings with it cold floors. It is normal and he likes normal, surprising though all things considered. 

The steam rises in the shower as he begins to lather shampoo on his scalp. He takes in the sensations of the hot water running down his back, as his hands run through his hair. As Benji has gotten older he notices how simple moments like had become sparse in between all the excitement of his day-to-day life. Although excitement doesn’t feel like the right word. 

He wants to collapse into his bed and stay there, shut off from the outside world, safe and sound. He feels so totally alone, unable to confront the tangle of knots that his mind has become. He is no stranger to nightmares; Benji notices that ever since his return from London, they are more frequent. All he sees when he shuts his eyes is being strapped to a vest, about to die. And the only comfort he has is a warm hand on his shoulder. 

He should have been more vigilant, he had let Vinter sneak up on him. What was the point of all his training if he could get captured so easily? He derailed the mission, and he’s been avoiding facing Ethan about it. He was there to help his teammate, his friend, his... whatever he was. There was something between himself and Ethan, he would be a fool to deny it. The unspoken words between them came to head that night. 

In saving his life, Ethan had conferred a value on it. Benji doesn’t talk about the money, he doesn’t even like thinking about the implications. But fifty million dollars was a considerable sum in the hands of a terrorist. He cannot help but wonder what the consequences of such a deal will mean. He fears he’s contributed to Ethan’s never-ending list of pain. 

He isn’t quite sure how to feel. Benji’s nights have been filled with fear and anger and hurt, while his days have been filled with banality. It’s a strange dichotomy, to say the least. He longs for the warmth of human touch, but he cannot bring himself to ask for it, nor does he know where to find it, save for the one man he’s been avoiding. 

He leaves the shower with a towel firmly wrapped around his waist, and his hair dripping with water. He catches his reflection in the mirror: he sees bruises and cuts that had begun to heal. He hates them. They’ve been placed upon his flesh by force. And although he knew the risks, that didn’t make them hurt any less. 

Benji lets out a gruff breath and makes his way back to his bedroom. The mid-morning sun reveals the last handful of leaves that are clinging onto the branches of the trees outside his window. He’s so caught up in the image of them that he fails to notice Ethan in the doorway of his bedroom. Ethan clears his throat, startling Benji. 

“Is this a bad time?” Ethan says maintaining his eyes on Benji

“Christ, Ethan. What the hell are you doing here?” Benji sputters out, startled that Ethan was in his home.

“I needed to talk with you,’ Ethan shifts in the door frame, looking around the room in search of words. “…I’ve been worried.” There’s something in his tone that Benji picks up. Not annoyance, like he’d anticipated, or anger, or disappointment. Ethan sounds gentle, vulnerable, even. 

Benji feels a warmth rising up in his neck and face, he’s unsure of how to proceed. He wants to tell Ethan not to worry, but the words don’t come out. Benji wants to say everything and nothing. Nothing is easier to deal with. Silence is a shield, guarding both of them against words that they could never take back. But everything is liberating especially when his life is not his own to live. They’re both just property really. Just tools to be discarded. He sees it more clearly than ever. The only thing Benji has is this team that’s since become his family. And laying it out on the line incurs a high risk he does not want to take. 

“Why are you worried about me?” Benji asks softly, looking towards the floor.

Ethan sighs, as he makes his way towards the edge of the bed, his back now facing Benji. 

“Benji, what happened to you with Lane… I, I’m sorry. I should have been able to prevent it but-“

“Don’t apologize, If anything I should be the one to apologize.’ Benji’s tone changes, annoyed. ‘You don’t deserve to bear that burden. I should have reacted quicker, I should have remembered my training. Damnit, Ethan, I’m the one who let you down.” Benji buries his hands in his face, tears streaming out from the frustration.

“No,’ Ethan responds, quieter than normal. ‘you never let me down. You could never let me down.” They’re quiet for a moment, as Benji wipes away his own tears. How could Ethan say that with such assurance? Why does he care so much? Why does Ethan care about him? 

Benji knows why, they’ve spoken of Ethan’s path. At least the part’s he was willing to share. But to see Ethan so concerned for him is touching and heartbreaking. 

“You really mean that, huh?” Benji says as he goes to rub his own shoulder, the body aches coming back. He feels a sense of relief in his chest, and he begins breathing normally again.

“You mean a lot to me, and I don’t want to lose you. I’d never want to lose you if I couldn’t protect you. I-“ Ethan stops, feeling Benji’s hand on his shoulder. 

“None of it was your fault. What happened with Lane wasn’t your fault. You saved me, and I’m alive.”

“It wasn’t your fault either, don’t blame yourself for getting captured…” 

They had reached an impasse of sorts. The fault lay with neither of them and yet they fixate on blaming themselves. Benji takes a seat beside Ethan, still wrapped in his towel. He runs his hands through his hair, unsure if his words will come outright.

“Ethan, I’ll never blame you for what happened. But it hurts. Everything about it hurts. I don’t want to put that on you. I’m so tired, it doesn’t stop. Every time I close my eyes, I’m there. And I’m about to die.” He pauses in an effort to avoid overwhelming the both of them.

“And most of all I was afraid I’d let you down, and I that I wrecked the mission you sacrificed so much for. I didn’t want to add that burden on you, I wanted to be there to help”

Ethan places his head on Benji’s shoulder and grabs a hold of his hands. Ethan’s hand is rough and calloused, but gentle. Benji rubs his thumb over Ethan’s, taking in the tenderness of the moment. Ethan’s body is warm, and he smells of pinewood and vanilla. His breathing is rhythmic, lulling the both of them into a peaceful quiet. Benji presses a gentle kiss on Ethan’s head. 

“I was here to tell you something else…” Ethan says in response. “I love you.”

Benji’s breath hitches for a moment, “I love you too.”

What they had, what they were.. those things didn’t matter, Benji thinks. They love each other, and they have whatever this was. He feels at home. As the wind howls in the distance, he also hears the leaves scraping across the asphalt. It’s part of the cycle of life. The trees will be bare, and then once spring comes they’ll grow again, and then they’ll fall.

They’re spies. They’ll stumble and fall, dust themselves off, and do it again. Sometimes they’ll get caught up in the wind, and lose themselves. They’re both leaves, fluttering through the chaos; fragile, and delicate and seemingly without purpose. But when they’re both together, none of it matters. The pain and fear wash away.

Ethan picks up Benji’s hand and kisses his knuckles. “I love you too much.”

Benji replies, “It’s frightening how much I love you. It’s overwhelming”

Ethan looks at him, “It's rotten work, loving me…” Ethan’s eyes are afraid, breaking Benji’s heart. How much has Ethan lost, how much guilt must he feel? Benji presses his forehead onto Ethan’s, closing his eyes, hoping Ethan will understand. He whispers to Ethan, forcing him to listen.

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”


End file.
